


Make the whole world wait

by mangacrack



Series: Aredhel dies at childbirth AU [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, First Age, First Meetings, Fix-It, M/M, Maeglin deserves better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-05 15:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10311737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangacrack/pseuds/mangacrack
Summary: The boy is hard to miss. He's a bonfire in the night, emitting so much wild joy. He seems completely enraptured by the stars and the moon above. The old hunter halts his steps and waits. Watches for a while and under the clear sky the Tilion's light turns the two Elves into a dark and a bright shadow. One black, one grey.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Feanorian Week, Day 3: Celegorm

The boy is hard to miss. He's a bonfire in the night, emitting so much wild joy. He seems completely enraptured by the stars and the moon above. The old hunter halts his steps and waits. Watches for a while and under the clear sky the Tilion's light turns the two Elves into a dark and a bright shadow. One black, one grey. 

"So you're Irissë's son," Celegorm says as Maeglin rises to hull height.

The truth stares into his face. 

...it's like looking into a broken mirror. Similar enough. Same shards of the original that now make up a different picture. 

"Do you mind?" Irissë's son asks. He angles his head and Celegorm spots a few differences. 

The eyes are black, not grey. The hair is darker. Long, smooth and kept in a high simple braid - where Irissë's hair always trailed after her in waves, often unkempt and tangled from the hours of being outside. But that's not the only difference. Celegorm lets his eyes travel up and down the lean body. Trained in the arts of war, less bulk for strength but for speed. Very capable swordsman and good with the bow. 

Sharp eyes that never leave him for a moment. 

Celegorm grins, noting the moment where eying a stranger for potential threats becomes ... something else.

"Not really, no. I truly don't mind," he says. With a careful, deliberate steps the Fëanorian etches closer. When he's close enough Celegorm bends forwards until they're nose to nose. Feeling Irissë's son breath on his mouth he whispers, "Keep looking. I know you want to."

The growl is deep enough that Celegorm can't keep calling Irissë's son boy anymore. He knows the name, of course. Rumors spread fast in Beleriand and distance isn't much of hindrance when it comes to Finwë's descendants gossiping to keep each other up to date. But it's still something else to see the evidence live and in color. Irissë choose well in her husband. 

Maeglin is ... attractive. Just on the right side of sharp and dangerous. Something his mother never quite managed to be. One reason why they fell apart as a couple and remained friends. But her son is different. Appealing. 

The Son of Fëanor licks his dry lips and allows the hunger to grow he feels in his belly. Usually he quenches such desires. People tend to be frightened just by the sheer intensity Celegorm looks at them. His fingers bury themselves in soft leather. Despite the cold air the skin is warm, almost blazing beneath it. When Maeglin doesn't back away, just chuckles quietly and holds his ground no matter how close the Fëanorian is closing in Celegorm decides he wants him in the worst way.

"I give you one chance to call this off," Celegorm rasps. There's a small part of his mind that isn't completely riddled with lust yet.

Somewhere a voice tells him this could be a bad idea, going after the son of the woman he once loved. But spring is awaking in Himlad, rousing his blood for a hunt after the long winter. Celegorm can almost feel the blood on his tongue, just as the moonlight caresses his skin with the same light touch of a lover.

Stars, Celegorm wants Maeglin's fingertips on his skin. His head swims with desire and he isn't so sure anymore if he can let go if the boy says no right now. But he worries for nothing. A hand takes his neck to pull him down and lips brush over his own, soft and wet. Celegorm groans and bites down on exposed skin as he presses their bodies together. They end up on the ground, bending the grass to make room for their needs. Right here on the spot in the middle of the nowhere with nothing but the open sky above their heads. 

A part of Celegorm, the one that is actually a responsible adult, wants to protest. This is a foolish way of meeting people. 

But Maeglin's slow grinding against his hips stops him, banishes whatever thought he latched on. Instead Celegorm bends down, sucks at the exposed neck until frantic hands free him of his shirt. Celegorm hisses as the freezing air hits his skin but the sound is swallowed by the hot mouth devouring his. His breathing goes raged, desperate when Maeglin presses their naked bodies together. Wraps a hand around their hard shafts and brings them further towards the edge. 

"Come on," Maeglin moans and tugs at his hair, refusing to leg to. "Don't make me beg." 

In the end it's all that matters. Maeglin on top of him, around him. Asking. Why deny him when it's so easy to get along? 

"I won't." Celegorm kisses Maeglin again. With a care and an intensity that scares even him. "I promise. No begging, no teasing." 

But the time he has three fingers inside his new friend Celegorm is close to losing it. The moans urge him on, when Maeglin tilts his head back it's an invitation to go on, just -fuck- ... never Celegorm has been with anyone who's pleasure gets him off so much. Makes him crave more of it, follow Maeglin lead when the younger guides him towards his entrance. Indicating that this isn't the first time. The knowledge eases the last of Celegorm's doubts. When he's firmly buried inside Maeglin, warm heat engulfing him he keeps still. Wants to give his partner a moment to breath but Maeglin is having none of it. 

By now there's nothing between them anymore but heat and sweat. Hands are grasping and slick mouth glide over firm skin. Celegorm has Maeglin pinned to the ground, his hips thrusting deep, deeper still because it's not enough. The Fëanorian tries to draw it out, wants it to last longer than just the few minutes but he's already clinging to the edge. Yet with Maeglin moving beneath him, meeting him again and again it's just a matter of time. 

Celegorm knows this isn't a lovers embrace, it's not even based on attraction. Instead it's pieces snapping together. Something that he hadn't known he was missing. Irissë hasn't been his lover for a long time and he was fine with it. But he missed his friend. His fellow huntress with her crude jokes and desire for independence. Mourning her was hard enough. The knowledge that she died in Nan Elmoth, not even a three days ride away from his home is almost unbearable. 

But never having met her son? Her own flesh and blood? Not having been able to hold him take him under his wing as his student and be the guard at his side because his mother isn't able to pass own the knowledge herself? Celegorm never realized how much he chafed under that. Hithlum is a world away and he's needed here. 

Maeglin cries out when Celegorm changes the angle and from the look in his eyes Irissë's son feels the same. Is aware of that this is completion of a connection should've been established a long time ago. But it's simply too good to last. When the rhythm finally breaks Celegorm looks their fingers together. He holds on longer after he collapses on top of Maeglin, panting and with his forehead pressed against his new friend's shoulder. 

"What a way to say hello," Maeglin finally mumbles. He doesn't seem to mind that Celegorm is still inside him, just rakes his fingers through the pale hair. 

Celegorm snorts. "There's a lot to make up for. I should've been at your side from the beginning. Your mother would've my hide that it took me so long to meet you." 

Maeglin's breath hitches at these words. Celegorm feels how a shudder goes through the Elf under him and for a moment all his vulnerabilities lay bare. 

_No fear, little one_ , Celegorm sends because words aren't enough. _I'll take care of you._

It's a promise. One he should've made over Maeglin's cradle but it'll do. It's not too late yet.

**Author's Note:**

> This can be seen as OneShot, but the truth is I wrote it as Slash Version of Chapter 8 in "Blindhammer". I just _couldn't_ resist.


End file.
